On My Own
by Allanna Stone
Summary: Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into heart?
1. Chapter 1

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into heart?**

Veronique sobbed when she saw the bodies littering the barricade. She began to go through them, looking for any survivors. She felt tears of sorrow coming to her eyes and she allowed for them to fall from her eyes.

Veronique heard a wheeze from behind her. She whipped her head around and saw a man was breathing shallowly as he struggled to sit up. Immediately, Veronique was on her feet at the man's side, inspecting him for any wounds. His shoulder and knee had been shot out, meaning that she couldn't get him to the clinic without some help.

"Avignon! Noelle!" she shouted and two burly men ran to help the young girl. "Take him to the clinic- and hurry!"

Veronique watched as he was busted to the clinic that was actually the ABC café. She dearly prayed that the little club that met there wouldn't mind. The bar owner certainly didn't.

Veronique stumbled on a girl who was been shot in the shoulder and a young boy who had been shot three times, all miraculously alive. After sending them the off to the clinic, she found herself surrounded by the dead. Veronique sniffled as she stood and began the trek to the ABC café.

When she arrived, she was met by her teachers at the convent, where she was student. She had no desire to become a nun, however, she did enjoy their company and lessons, so she was under the teachings of Mother Superior.

"Veronique," called Sister Grace, who was like an older sister to Veronique, taking her into her arms for a hug. "How bad was it?"

Veronique shuddered upon thought of all the dead bodies littering the barricade. Sister Grace took that as an answer and only hugged the seventeen year old girl all the more.

"It was like a nightmare come to life," whispered the girl, struggling not to cry as she allowed the kindly nun to hug her.

"I swear, Napoleon is going to meet his doom one of these days," muttered one of the nurses who were helping to care for the survivors. She was the most outspoken of all the women who had gathered to help the community recover from the tragedy. She would boldly speak of how the tyrant, Napoleon Bonaparte would see the light before the end of the year came. Veronique dearly hoped so- this was the first massacre that she was helping with, and she wasn't happy about the dead souls that were left at the barricade until later, when they would bring them in for the families to view and to mourn over, and have burials.

"Hush!" hissed another nurse, her eyes darting around as though she expected for the tyrant to appear and to order everyone's deaths.

Veronique sighed heavily as she went to go and care for the little boy who had been shot three times. He would need a friendly face around when he woke up, she thought as she held his hand as the doctor carefully removed the three bullets that had shattered his body. Veronique wasn't squeamish of blood or gore, not like the other girls at the convent, who all shrieked and giggled like loons.

Veronique smiled down at the little boy who she had found and began to hum a soft lully to him, hoping that he was dreaming sweet dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into heart?**

Enjolras groaned as he woke up. His vision was blurry as he tried to pick out where he was. He could only remember an angel holding his hand and then…

She was gone.

He could still remember her- her long, dark brown curls that seemed almost black, her sparkling sapphire blue eyes, her pale, creamy skin, her rosebud shaped lips…

Enjolras smiled at the memory of his angel, the girl who had saved his life.

But what about the others?

He struggled to sit up, only to have a loud roar of pain rip through his shoulders. He yelped before collapsing back onto his stomach, panting as two nurses entered his room.

"Ah, it's nice to see that you're awake," smiled one of the nurses, a kindly older lady dressed in a wimple and veil.

"How many dead?" mumbled Enjolras through the pillow that was mashed up against his mouth. Immediately, the nun's smiling faced sobered.

"Too many to even speak of, my dear," spoke the second nun with a sad sigh. "You're lucky that Veronique found you when she did, or else you'd be dead too."  
Veronique.  
Was this the name of his mysterious angel?

Enjolras tried to ask the nun who was Veronique, but he passed out. The next thing he knew was that he was waking up to an intoxicating scent. It smelled like flowers of some kind and exotic spices. He inhaled again before opening his eyes.

And he saw her.

She was a true beauty to behold, dressed in a pale blue gown with a modest neckline and sleeves that came to her elbows. She also wore a white apron around her slender waist and it was stained with what looked like blood. Enjolras's heart twisted as he forced his attention onto her face. Her skin was a creamy pale, the color of a pale pink rose, with a tint of red on her cheeks and berry colored lips. Her sapphire blue eyes were fringed with eyelashes that looked like butterfly wings that would sweep her cheekbones whenever she blinked, and a round face that made her look younger then she actually was. Her long dark curls were held out of her face by a makeshift headband, and her neck wore a small silver crucifix. She moved away from his bed, and for the first time, he noticed that she was tiny- standing at about the height of Gavroche.

Gavroche.

Was he alright?

"Oh, you're awake," she murmured softly, sitting on the bed next to him and wiping the sweat off his back with a damp washrag. "You were shot in the shoulder- that's why we have you on your stomach, so that way we can change your bandages easier- and your leg was also shot, through and through. The main thing we have to worry about now is infection."

Enjolras got the feeling that she talked half to herself and half to other people a lot. He tried to reach up to touch her hand, gasping as pain throbbed through his shoulder.

"Don't." She murmured, catching his hand and holding it. "You're hurt- you need to rest."

"Did you-" Enjolras asked her, getting out of breath quickly.

"I did find you." She turned away to soak the rag again. "You were barely alive." She delicately dabbed the rag onto Enjolras's sweat soaked back.

"Who else?" muttered Enjolras weakly.

"A girl and a young boy," she answered, frowning as she noticed he was bleeding through the bandages again. She quickly sat him up and began to rebandage him. Enjolras felt shy about exposing his chest to a female- a pretty female, his mind added- but she acted as though he was just a rag doll that she was dressing. After swiftly changing his bandage, she laid him back down again on his stomach with his face in her direction. "Your stitches are looking good- no inflammations."

"Who are you?" Enjolras rasped hoarsely as she began to help him eat some mild broth.

"My name is Veronique," she answered in that soft voice as he took the spoonful of food from her.

"Veronique," he breathed softly, closing his eyes as he tasted her name on his lips with a smile. The girl waited for him to reopen his eyes before feeding him another spoonful of broth.

They sat there in silence until the bowl was empty. Veronique stood up with the bowl to return to the makeshift kitchen when Enjolras asked her in a soft voice, "Please don't leave me."  
Veronique smiled at him before setting the bowl out in the hallway and returning back to the room. For the first time, he noticed that she carried a small basket with her. She opened the lid and took out a book that was in Italian and began to read it.  
Enjolras sighed happily before slipping into sleep.

As long as Veronique was near, he felt at peace.


	3. Chapter 3

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into her heart?**

Enjolras woke up with a loud cry. He thought that he was back at the barricade. He jumped up out of the bed, despite the pain his shoulder was in.

He heard someone talking to him in a low, soothing voice and his vision soon cleared to show Veronique was standing before him, his tiny hands on his chest.

"It's okay- it's all over now," she was murmuring softly, as she gently forced him to sit down onto the bed again. "Please," she begged him softly, her blue eyes filled with fear. For the first time, Enjolras noticed that her nose was bleeding. He lifted up a hand to cup her face and she flinched back before allowing for the man to cup her face.

"How did you…" Enjolras looked at his hand, and to his horror, it was stained with blood. "Oh my God!"

"It doesn't hurt that much," was all that Veronique said before wiping her nose with the sleeve of her dress. "It never hurts anymore," she whispered softly to herself.

Before Enjolras could ask Veronique what she meant, an elderly man and woman entered the room and rushed over to Enjolras's bedside.

"Richard! Are you alright?" cried the woman, taking Enjolras's hand into her own.

"Thanks to Veronique, I am," smiled the student, looking around for his guardian angel but not finding her.

"Who?" asked Enjolras's grandmother kindly.

"She was just in here," muttered Enjolras, shifting to make himself more comfortable and wincing as pain ripped through his body.

"Try not to move much," advised Veronique, entering the room again with a washbin filled with warm water and bubbles and placing it onto the floor next to Enjolras's bed. "I'm going to clean the wound on you knee now, alright?"

Before Enjolras could say much of anything, she had tossed back the blankets and was unwrapping the bandage that protected the wound from infection. He blushed and turned to talk to him grandparents, who were looking both horrified and amused.

"Well, this was a war zone- what were you expected?" asked Veronique before exposing the full wound to the world. Enjolras yelped as the cool air met the ugly scab and his grandparents recoiled back in horror at the ugly, gaping wound that would haunt their grandson's leg for all eternity.

"It'll heal in time, but if I take care of it properly, then it'll only be a tiny scar. The main thing that I have to watch out for is infections," explained Veronique before beginning to dab at the bullet hole carefully with her washcloth.

Enjolras clenched the bed sheets and gritted his teeth; the warm water hurt like a sonofabitch!

"I know that it hurts, but that's just the body healing itself and telling you to never get shot ever again," explained Veronique calmly before her nose began to bleed again. "Oh dear…"

"Here, dearie," said Marie, Enjolras's grandmother before taking out a handkerchief from her purse and dabbing at Veronique's gushing nose. "What on earth happened?"

"One of the other survivers was having a nightmare so when I went to go and wake them up, they hit me in their sleep," she explained somewhat frazzled, for Enjolras's knee wound was beginning to bleed again. "Oh heavens, it's as though the Lord is testing me…" She turned to the elderly couple and asked them to leave. Marie kissed her only grandson's forehead before leaving with her husband, who only nodded at his son's child.

"I am truly sorry for what happened to your nose," murmured Enjolras softly, reaching out to brush an escaping curl behind her ear. "I am."

Veronique looked up and for the first time, noticed truey how handsome the man was. He had black hair that was in need of a trim, emerald green eyes, and a finely chiseled face- he was cuter than cute.

He was devilishly handsome.

Veronique found herself examining him closer and saw that there was a tiny scar that partially covered his right cheek, his dimples would show even when he was in agony, and that his eyes had flecks of gold and blue in them.

Enjolras caught himself doing to same thing to Veronique and saw that she was more flawless then he originally thought. Her face was round, giving her the appearance of being much younger. Her sapphire blue eyes had changed color, due to the dim lighting, and were now a stunning shade of turquoise. She came up to about his chest, but she appeared to be taller, due to the air of confidence and control that cloaked her. Her curls, which he thought were black, were actually brown- black with streaks of red and gold running throughout her tresses. Her fingers were long and slender, heavy with calluses and blisters, telling him that she worked a hard life.

She was, all in all, stunningly beautiful.


	4. Chapter 4

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into her heart?**

The next three weeks were filled with "learning" to walk with a cane and badgering from Veronique on what Enjolras could and could not do with his injuries. For some reason or another, but the hot headed rebel leader did not lose his temper at Veronique. She was like a balm to his burn; his guardian angel.

Enjolras made up every excuse he could think of just to have Veronique near him. And almost everyone noticed.

Mother Superior didn't know whether to be happy that her favorite pupil would have a happy future or miffed that the boy was showing interest in Veronique. She was a bright child, filled with witty remarks and sassiness, and she was also a kind soul, always going out of her way to help someone less fortunate that herself.

Finally, Mother Superior took Veronique aside for a chat the day before Enjolras was due to go back to his flat.

"Veronique, I want for you to be his nurse," the nun said straight out.

"Okay," she answered the head nun with a smile before turning and skipping off to help one of the nurses with something. The nun just shook her head and smiled at the naive young girl who she had grown to call her daughter. It would be hard, not having her around at the convent; hearing her singing at Sunday mass, seeing her bright and cheery smile, seeing her skipping down the hallways…

Good Lord, she would miss that child.

Mother Superior crossed herself before turning to go and check up on the other survivors of the barricade massacre.

~xXx~

"We're here," announced Enjolras as Veronique went ahead to open the door to the posh apartments he lived in. "It's not much, but it's home," he apologized as a motherly woman came out of her apartment to greet him.

"Ah, Enjolras! It's so nice to see you again, dearie," she smiled. "Who is this young pretty?"

"Veronique, Madame," she answered, dipping into a curtsy before rushing to help Enjolras, who was swaying on his cane. "Could you please excuse us?" she asked sweetly before hustling Enjolras up the staircase to his flat on the third floor. "She seems sweet," she commented as they entered his flat. To the young girl's horror, the apartment was a mess, with papers everywhere and books littering every surface.

"I'm sorry about the mess," he apologized as he hobbled over to the couch. "I'm really not much for organizing…"

"I'd say so," commented Veronique dryly before scooping up the pile of papers and books that littered the couch and helping Enjolras settle himself onto the furniture before beginning to pick up the papers and sort them into piles. "I hate messes; don't mind me, I'll just tidy up a bit…"

A knock at the door send Veronique to go and open it. Upon opening the door, she saw an elderly woman. She heard Enjolras groan loudly as she acknowledged the woman with a smile.

"Now what are you doing with the rascal Richard?" she asked suspiciously, peering over Veronique's shoulder to peer at Enjolras, who was shifting as he tried to make himself more comfortable.

"Enjolras was injured in the battle a few weeks ago and I am helping care for him until he is able to fend for himself," answered Veronique with a little smile as she went to go play with her silver crucifix.

"You're a student at the convent?" she asked with interest.

"Yes, Madame; I am," she answered sweetly.

"Well, just be careful with this one. He likes his girls dark haired and small boned; much like you," warned the woman with a serious look on her face.

Enjolras yelped in embarrassment at the nosey tenant's words before Veronique bid her goodbye and shut the door firmly behind her.

"Believe me, I am not that kind of man," he sputtered, his face a deep red as he tried to make up for the lost damage.

Veronique only quirked up an eyebrow as she went into his kitchen to see about dinner. To her horror, there wasn't anything to eat, aside from half a loaf of bread and some moldy cheese.

"What on earth do you eat?" she asked him on her face as she waited for his answer.

"I normally eat out- I don't have the time or the skills to cook for myself," he answered sheepishly. Veronique only huffed as she grabbed a blank sheet of paper and a pen and began to write down a long list of foods to buy to stock the empty kitchen.

Bread.

Milk.

Eggs.

Cheese.

Meat.

Blueberries.

Corn.

Tea.

Apples.

Tomatoes.

Oatmeal.

Broth.

Rice.

Fish.

"Here," announced Veronique upon finishing the list. She handed it to Enjolras to look over and noticed his eyebrows rising.

"Forgive me for saying so, but you're the first woman I met who can read and write," he commented, handing her the list. "Do you need any money?"

Veronique just shook her head before tucking the list into her basket and walking out to the street market to buy food for the next few weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into her heart?**

When Veronique returned a few hours later, she found Enjolras sound asleep on the couch with a tall pile of papers and books next to him. The pint sized student smiled at her charge before heading into the kitchen to make dinner.

Enjolras woke up to the smell of food. Actual food, not that small sandwich from the café that he usually munched on when he was hungry. He sat up, groaning when the pile of books and papers fell over onto the floor in a heap. Veronique poked her head out of the kitchen at his voice and smiled when she saw that he was awake.

She silently glided out of the kitchen with a bown of stew and a hunk of bread in her hands. She sat down next to Enjolras and turned his head to face her as she took up the spoon and sternly told him to "open up."

Enjolras didn't put up much of a fight, especially after he tasted her cooking. It was amazing, even better than his mother's home cooked meals. He eagerly ate up every last bite of her food and to his surprise, found himself full and sleepy after eating.

Veronique noticed his eyes drooping, for she set the bowl on the trunk that was serving as a coffee table and helped him to stand. After she had arrived from the market place half an hour ago, she had nosed around a bit and found his bedroom, which she nudged open with her foot and helped Enjolras to lie on his bed. After plumping up his pillow and drawing the blanket over his body, she found that he was already sound asleep. She smiled to herself as she ghosted out of the bedroom and into the front parlor to sleep on the couch.

~xXx~

"_**NO!**_"

Veronique jumped off of the couch, where she was camping out for the night and ran to Enjolras's room. To her terror, her charge was thrashing in his sleep, yelling and groaning as he clawed at an unseen enemy.

"Wake up! Wake up, mousier!" cried Veronique, running to his bedside to shake him awake. Suddenly, his bright emerald green eyes flew open as he bolted up in bed with a wild cry. Veronique jumped back with a shriek of surprise and stumbled into a tottering tower of books, sending both her and the volumes crashing to the floor.

Enjolras whipped her head to see who was in his room and frowned when he saw Veronique picking herself up from the scattered books that now littered the floor.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," he murmured softly, bowing his head as she came over to sit on the bed next to him.

"You dreamt of the barricade, did you not?" she asked him softly, noticing that he ripped a few stitches. She peeled back the bandages and grabbed her medical basket before getting to work on his wound.

"It was horrible," he shuddered, leaning back into the pillows, giving Veronique all the space she needed to stitch up his wound. A few minutes later, Veronique stood to return to the couch for the night but Enjolras grabbed her wrist and looked her in the eye, his begging and scared. "Stay with me? Please?"

Veronique smiled as she rested herself on his bed, propping herself up on her elbows before she began to sing the most beautiful song that Enjolras had ever heard in his life.

"_Lasciatemi morire  
Lasciatemi morire  
E chi volete  
Voi che mi conforte  
In cosi dura sorte  
In cosi gran martire  
Lasciatemi morire  
Lasciatemi morire  
E chi volete  
Voi che mi conforte  
In cosi dura sorte  
In cosi gran martire  
Lasciatemi morire  
Lasciatemi morire"  
_Within seconds, Enjolras was sound asleep with a peaceful smile on his face as Veronique settled herself for the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**On my Own**

**I don't own Les Misérables or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:**

**Enjolras is saved from death by a mysterious angel, who harbors secrets and an emotional past. She needs Enjolras to save her from herself, but will she let him into her heart?**

Veronique woke up early the next morning to find that she was being held by Enjolras. When she had managed to free herself, he began to twitch and whimper, causing for her to replace her warm body with a pillow. Once she was certain that her charge was comfortable, she left the room to fix up breakfast.

A few minutes later, Enjolras hobbled out of his room, leaning heavily on his cane as he gazed upon the beautiful nurse in his kitchen. His dreams the night before were filled with her- of her laughing with glee, crying in pain, and frowning with disapproval. It wasn't until his mind wandered over to the battle of the barricade did the nightmares begin.

Veronique was killed a hundred different ways before his eyes. And he was powerless to help her.

He shuddered as he limped towards the dining table, which was covered with books and papers. Veronique stacked a few of the books out of the way before giving him a bowl of oatmeal with spices sprinkled on top. Enjolras didn't have the energy (or the heart) to tell her that he despised oatmeal with all his heart so he took a bite. To his surprise, the meal was good- not soupy and bland like he remembered it being, but thick and rich with flavors. He quickly shoveled the delicious meal into his mouth and was polishing it off when he thought to ask Veronique about the song she sang to him the night before.

"It's a song about letting someone die," she murmured softly. "I'm not good at translating, but it comes from an Italian opera that tells of a princess who falls in love with a beggar man. The man becomes smitten with her so he uses his father's spell book to transform himself into a prince. The princess and the baggar plan to run away, but their plans are foiled by the king's inspector, who is also in love with the princess. A fight ensues and the princess is killed when she throws herself in from of the inspector's blade. She sings the song then."

Enjolras was amazed that such a lovely song held such sorrow and yet still sounded beautiful.

Especially when Veronique was singing it.

He shook himself and blushed. He shouldn't be thinking such thoughts about her; she was being raised in a convent, for heaven's sake!

He found himself getting dressed with Veronique's assistance, even though he protested the entire time that he was perfectly capable of getting himself ready for the day. Once that was finished, he found himself being led outside his flat with Veronique besides him with a small smile gracing her face.

They ambled through the streets, Veronique smiled at everyone, no matter how rich or poor they were, making Enjolras's heart smile at the kind girl who was walking with her petite hand on his arm.

And then…

A young girl ran over to them, crying.

Veronique squatted down so that way she was ay eye level with the young girl.

"What's the matter?" she asked kindly.

"Mama's having trouble getting the baby out," she sniffled.

Immediately, Veronique straightened herself and ordered the young girl to take her to where her mother was. The young child complied, scurrying to a one roomed house before Veronique entered, ordering Enjolras to stay out and amuse the child.

The student stood awkwardly, eyeballing the girl with a "what-am-I-supposed-to-do-to-amuse-you?" look on his face. The little girl looked up at him, sucking her fist quietly.

Suddenly, Enjolras got an idea.

"Do you know that the Greeks worshiped deities?" he asked before launching into the stories of the Greek gods and their many adventures.

~xoXox~

A few hours later, Veronique poked her head out the only door to tell the little girl that she could come in and visit her new baby brother. She smiled at the sight of Enjolras telling stories to the little children who had gathered around him, reminding her of the Bible story of when Jesus spoke with the little children.

"Let the little children come unto me," she murmured softly as the little girl scampered up to her and asked if her mother was okay.

"Go in and see for yourself," smiled Veronique, stepping aside so that way she could dart inside.


End file.
